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I Can’t Handle It Anymore

I Can’t Handle It Anymore

I am not doing well again, and this is my best effort to put it all to words. I have been struggling with school assignments, I am feeling depressed again, and feel a lot of chronic pain. The saddening began after finishing my big watch project. I was yet to present my watch design to the company board, and tried to prepare the best I could. I could barely keep myself without shaking and crying and when it was time to present I could not properly follow my planned outline. I couldn’t stop stuttering and looking at the floor. I was stopped and called out by my low volume by the CEO, something I was warned would happen. At some point we crossed gazes and he immediately scoffed loudly, looking away and shaking his head. I couldn’t look at the rest of the room, but I knew I was letting people down. Other classmates had amazing designs too, yet somehow I was picked. After it was done, I felt relieved, but also overwhelmed by the many assignments I had neglected from focusing too much on one subject. Honestly, I barely tried getting those assignments done in the end, I was so exhausted and uninspired that I couldn’t do it. I decided to take the L and fail two classes… During winter break I attended a wedding, and decided to wear eye makeup, which I hadn’t in months. The mascara was quite old by that point, and I don’t know if it was contaminated, or maybe I crimped my eyelashes with a bit of the eyelid, but I began developing a large lump on my eyelid. Everything is blurry out of that eye; reading what’s on my phone is impossible until I hold it 10 cm away from my face. This makes sketching really difficult. It’s been there since, and my vision has not improved. Returning to school, I was surprised the two classes had not been failed yet, they were marked incomplete, and one of them I must complete in order to be registered for a new class this semester. I spent most of January working on those assignments, the interior design of a car. During this time however, I should have been working on my new classes, designing an impact wrench, as well as the exterior of the previously mentioned car, in addition to other assignments for general requirement classes. When I was done with the car interior, I moved on to the impact wrench. But I was not feeling inspired to draw anything. I was having some ideas on how to move buttons around, and how to improve user experience with the whole air compressor system, but in terms of how to make the tool look “good”, I was drawing a blank. This terrifies me, I’m supposed to be a designer. I can think of solutions to user problems, but thinking about how a modern power tool should look, it would simply not happen. Days went by without any ideas until presentation day. With nothing, I didn’t present, but I kept working on it. There’s some ideas emerging, but when I try sketching them, I just can’t seem to do it well enough. I’m also supposed to have superb sketching skills, but right now I just can’t. Assignments are piling up again, with the next impact wrench presentation coming next week, as well as physical models, a poster, and multiple speeches. I also need to finish my portfolio, one of those two classes I neglected. I have several projects I can show, but I feel like they all need improvement, there’s just no time, and with everything else going on, I feel too discouraged to work on that. I need to though. I need an internship and they are all hiring right now. I feel so scared about a job, I’ve honestly never done anything like that before, and when I can’t even greet people without feeling extremely anxious, or give a very important presentation, or walk around in public without feeling paranoid, how can I think about being in an interview. The job outlook for industrial design is also terrible. I can’t stop hearing from other classmates and professionals online that they just can’t find a job, or even interviews. Frankly, it’s making me scared about the future, I wonder if I’ll be safe and have access to healthcare. The instruction at school is not what it once was. With the program shut down, teachers are leaving since they have no one else to teach. We are left with the program director, who always pushes us to do our best, but sometimes leaves things to be desired. He has been understanding though, and has allowed me extra time to complete the missing assignments. He can be very vague when talking to me, while he spends a lot of time talking to other students. At some point he was looking at images of futuristic car designs and was amazed by some, which were AI, while a real sketch made him say “this one is not quite there.” At least one classmate used AI for the previous air wrench class, and while the idea is interesting, a wearable harness containing the hose for the tool, the images generated, delivered as final design, are just stupid. It could not be manufactured, it has pointless lines and cables; I can’t imagine how it was allowed. And so, should I just write whatever and use a generated image to just get the assignment over with? Well, of course fucking not, but, the barrier I’m hitting right now, the look of the tool, not the ergonomics, or user interaction elements, just the aesthetic part; that is something that a single prompt can solve, and then what am I good for? It is not right to think this way, but I can’t help it. All the garbage being produced with generative AI, all the aggressive marketing and implementation, lots and lots of money put into hardware for data centers, price hikes for consumers, information poisoning, intellectual property scrapping, all for what? This is only destroying our minds, the environment, the economy. I am sick of this obsession with an unregulated technology that keeps messing with how we live. Trans rights keep being eradicated in many places. It is genuinely dangerous, even illegal, to exist as a trans person in some parts of the US. I may follow bills and laws too closely, perhaps not the best for my mental health, but I want to make sure that I can keep me and others safe. I have started crying randomly again, and flashes of self harm flood my mind constantly. I don’t want to lose hope. This post is all over the place, but I’m beginning to feel like breaking again, and instead of sleeping, I tried to finally pen down some reasons why. I wish I didn’t feel this way.

I Love Her

I Love Her

December 16th, 2025 It has been a while since my last post, so much has happened since, I don’t think I could come up with words to explain just how much my life has changed, for the better. I’ve never felt happier than now, meeting my girlfriend was the best thing that could have happened. I have loved every second I’ve been with her, every text and call, and I only wish I could spend more time with her, however, school has been very demanding lately. This past semester was the first of my junior year and ever since my first day I knew that in this semester we would collaborate with a real watch company; I already knew it was a lot of work, but never imagined just how much and how realistic to a real job it would be. The a small team from the watch company came to our classroom one day, everyone knew to be in early. They presented the brand we were going to design for and gave us the design brief, an outline of what we had to do, as well as tools such as brand motifs a.k.a. codes and elements, fonts, and colors. I knew nothing about watches, how you would go about designing one and manufacturing it. At first finding the inspiration for the project was difficult, I just sat in front of a blank page, attempting just to sketch a generic watch. It took me a while to get started, but when I did, I researched how a watch was manufactured , the names of the elements, materials, the movement, and of course, researched the my brand and its users. Now, I actually cannot reveal much since I had to sign an NDA. I put together six concepts for the first phase. We work on 11 x 17 inch paper which I can only print with at school, and they wanted our presentations pinned up on large black boards along the walls of the classroom. The day before the presentation I went to school to work on my sketches, thinking, “I’ll be back by 9 pm.” That never worked out. I couldn’t finish my sketches and had to stay overnight to finish and print. Some of my classmates also stayed but eventually everyone left and when everyone was coming back for class, I was still there. Two of my concepts were picked, one that was very outlandish, and another that I finished 10 minutes before class; I had to move forward with these. And next came the initial CAD phase, one of my strongest suits. By the second phase, the model didn’t have to be perfect, but I obsessed over it. I read through the different movements’ spec sheets, figuring out which one allowed for a thin watch—reading how thick each part should be. I had fun, but I didn’t need to take so much time. My outlandish design had to be toned down a little, sharp curves were straightened while the main idea was still there. For my second presentation I had to stay overnight at school once again. For some reason, my university decided to observe a fall break this semester. They had already shaved off one week of classes and now another. Needless to say, I stayed at home, working on my watch for most of the day. The next week would be my Girlfriend’s birthday, and I was not able to be with her, I felt really terrible. It was at this point that I began hearing about the project being a competition. In the end, people would be chosen to present at the company’s headquarters and possibly win a scholarship. I just wanted to try my best, I believed I could do it, my teacher did too. Assignments began mounting at this point. I took on film photography to earn some credits, but it required me to go out and take pictures, it’s fun of course, but I was spending more and more time on the watch. Another of my classes involved a lengthy weekly assignment and I was starting to falter. For another class I had to design the interior of a vehicle, again, I know nothing about that. The inspiration never came, and I have not been able to do anything about it. Lastly, I have to put together a portfolio, which is still not done. I focused all my efforts on the watch design, sadly neglecting other clases. I did different dial ideas for my watch, as well as test colorways, later I did a 3D print and an improved CAD model. The day of the final presentation came, once again I had to stay overnight at school, this time having with me a formal change of clothes. Working at my fastest, I finished the presentation once people were already presenting. My computer was rendering all night views of the watch, as well as an animation. I presented the best I could, and after that I could finally relax. Except I couldn’t. The next week I found out I was chosen to present at the HQ, I was really happy, but tired because it was not over yet. By this point I began feeling weird, a little depressed again. Each semester always takes a toll on me, and this one specially was very hard. I could not focus on other assignments, I completely gave up on the car interior project. Some depression traits began happening again, lying on the floor, randomly crying, a lot of physical pain. My girlfriend always helped me push forward, she always encouraged me to do the best I could, and I’m very thankful for that. Next came the day to improve my presentation at the HQ. That was my first nine to five in a corporate setting, and it felt like I only was there for 2 hours, I did so much and still didn’t finish my presentation until the next day. A week later I presented with some of my classmates. It was strange, I’ve never been in such a place, the board meeting room, big screens, big table, reserved seat labels, meeting the top of the company, including the CEO. This time I had prepared a script for my presentation, but I was way too nervous, I was not speaking loud enough and got called out for it. It could have been better, but it was the best I could do. I didn’t win first place, but I was gifted a goodie bag with a watch, a bottle, a pen, and a couple other things. Now it was truly over. My photography teacher was real nice and gave the class As in the final assignments even though most of us didn’t do it properly—or at all. I presented an inclusive bench design for my other class and handed in two late assignments, declaring that class done as well. And today, I’m flying to Mexico for Christmas and to attend a wedding, as well as some important business. January 11th, 2026 I’m back… and this post seems to never be finished. After my girlfriend and I got together, we only had two weeks to ourselves before I went back to school. We spent time together while I could, but once school started it became harder to see her. I had been alone for years, and suddenly having someone who needs me—it’s still hard to get accustomed to it. I love the moments when we’re together, when we fall asleep together, but a part of me can’t help but feel that we’ve spent too much time together, it makes me leave so I can have alone time. I know it’s okay to want some time for myself, but I’d also like if I could handle spending much more time with her—it’s going to take time, but I’ll get there. I can’t imagine myself without her, really. Yes, she’s changed my life in a big way, but I love every part of it, I don’t want to look back. She makes me feel happy, loved, missed, cherished. Things I hardly experienced before. She’s helped me smile again, to enjoy things again. Lately, as I’ve been dealing with apathy, she’s still there for me, even when I’m too overwhelmed to answer texts and calls—she cares so much. I’ve never experienced that much attention before; when someone does, it even annoys me a little. But I couldn’t be more grateful to have her by my side; I love that she cares. She has made me the happiest I could ever be, I love her.

Feeling Better

Feeling Better

School is finally over again! This semester has been very interesting. I remember struggling a lot at the beginning. I remember going for days without doing homework, and those horrible suicidal thoughts just made everything worse. As the semester progressed and I began work on my keyboard, I got increasingly absorbed into my work. I began feeling better and worked like crazy on concepts, Solidworks models, and renders. I enjoyed it so much. For my Adobe class, I designed a security camera, which I made into a little monitor, like a baby monitor, but for adults. It is colored a vintage blue and yellow. It has a little cute antenna and a push-to-talk button. Doing the Solidworks model was interesting. I really like blobjects and rounded forms. The camera is a little rectangle, but every face should have curvature. It just looks great. Just yesterday, I was looking at my Apple USB-C cable and comparing it to a very similar one that came with a MagSafe base. The Apple cable is completely continuous, even though the plug looks like an extruded slot. The expected planar horizontal faces are actually curved. That makes for a great look with smooth and continuous reflections and highlights. In contrast, the other cable is just a slot, two arcs connected by two horizontal lines. If you put it up to the light, you can see the reflections break where the arcs end and the lines begin. I thought that was very interesting. I’ll remember to use that in my designs. Anyway, I’m now realizing I didn’t use any Adobe software for this one, lol. Another project was to design our own watch since next semester we’re going to work with an actual watch company. I have my own brand already, my own logo, so that was easy. I made a minimalistic design, which is my jam. Everyone posted their moodboards and sketches on a collaborative board, and it was interesting seeing everyone’s different styles. Some preferred very involved designs, others went for fancy. I think I was the only one who picked other minimalist watches for inspiration, like Mondaine; ever since I went to Switzerland, I’ve been obsessed with the SBB clock and its signature movement. The design restriction was that the watch needed three complications: 24-hour, day, and date. Many just ignored the requirement, but I didn’t and got full marks! There was one class where I was falling behind, History of Product Design. Every week I was supposed to read the assigned readings and write a summary, find a quote, and find an object related to the reading. Since I was struggling so much at the beginning, I didn’t do many of the first readings; the habit stuck, and I didn’t do any work for the semester. At least I wasn’t the only one, and the professor was kind enough to open all the assignments until the end of the semester. Once I was done with the keyboard, I quickly submitted all the readings. I was not able to attend Hillel events for most of the semester because all events happened during my classes, although there were some that I could have attended, but I decided not to. Eventually, I went to the screening of the Prince of Egypt during Pesach and made matzah pizza. I attended talks about proper criticism of Israel and the connection to the land. For this last one, the coordinator laid out cards which pictured a connection to Judaism and the Land of Israel. I picked the one that had a person in front of a mirror. The person seemed sad, empty, but in the mirror, they were happy and had a Magen David on their heart. It immediately spoke to me. I know I am meant to be Jewish. I just haven’t gotten there yet. And when I feel bad for having my conversion on hold, I just tell myself in the mirror, “I’ve found my people. One day I’ll be completely Jewish, and I’ll be very happy.” The person sitting next to me had been to other Hillel events, but I had never talked to him. He picked a card with a family celebrating Chanukah and Christmas; he is a convert too! He told me, “You won’t regret it.” And then the event ended. I went to Finley to work on my keyboard renders, but I was distracted by a clear view of the New York skyline. I walked closer to take a photo and resumed my walk. I wanted to get something to drink from the vending machine first. After getting my drink, I was ready to get going, when someone stopped me. It was the same person from the Hillel event; earlier, he offered me Hamantaschen, but I was very full. He stood behind me holding up his cup of Hamantaschen. I laughed awkwardly and took two from him, then continued on my way. But before getting far, I decided to turn around and talk to him. It was a good conversation. He invited me to go to his synagogue one time and offered to introduce me to the Rabbi. I told him that I have not been satisfied with the observance of the Reform movement, and since he’s conservative, he told me that might be a good fit for me. I have been considering just that for months. I told him I was trans, and he reacted very surprised. He said he couldn’t tell; that was very nice to hear. It made me happy. So he said, Orthodox is definitely off the table, no objection there, and I want something deeper than Reform. So, conservative it is. Pesach was just next week, and we decided it would be too much for my introduction. We’ll see how this goes. I have not gone to the temple in about a year. I feel sad about that and feel like an imposter when I wear my Magen David since I’m not Jewish and I’m not actively converting. I know I’ll get there. Hopefully, now that I feel better, I’ll be able to move forward with that. And that’s been pretty much it. I’m finishing writing this post from Mexico; we’re on a trip with my grandma and aunt, and I’m exhausted because I woke up at 4 a.m., took a delayed 5-hour flight, then rushed to get from one terminal to the other and took another delayed one-hour flight. We managed to get dinner but couldn’t do much else for the day. So I’m happy to say that I feel better. It’s been rough, but I’ve found solace in my work. I create amazing things, which in turn motivates me to keep going. I know one day all this hard work will pay off, and I’ll be doing something I really enjoy, no matter how tedious it is, designing.

Weird

Weird

I feel weird, I wouldn’t know how to describe it, I just feel almost emotionless, sad, and discouraged. I have slowly been catching up with assignments, that is my main stressor, but there is still a lot I have to get done, and there are about three weeks left before winter break. Sketching and ideating have been hard, like I felt before the hospital, I feel my creativity is just gone, and I hate it. You can really see it in my last post, it is very fragmented and it doesn’t resemble my writing style at all, it is also really short. I have moments when I feel great, I would even say happy, optimistic, and that usually lasts a couple of days. There’s also days that I feel totally discouraged, I cry, and feel very sad. What’s in between is just nothing, emotionless, I guess. This last weekend I heard the voice for the first time after being in the hospital. I was in the kitchen, cooking, and the voice began narrating every single action I did. It went something like this: “She is organizing the dishes in the sink,” “She is scrubbing the plate,” “She is organizing the dried dishes on the counter, so weird,” “Now she is cutting the tomato.” I started noticing that gradually, in the end, I began imagining I was being studied in a lecture hall. I’m glad it didn’t tell me to stab myself while cutting that tomato, but it was a very weird experience. I don’t know what is going on since I am on an antipsychotic, I was talking to mom about the medicine, I feel sleepy all the time, and it is not really helping me, so I told her I would discuss with my doctor either changing it or stopping it. She said I shouldn’t, especially because I’ve been hearing those voices since at least my autism diagnosis and the antipsychotic should prevent that. Now I’m thinking I shouldn’t go off of it since I’ve just heard the voice again. Perhaps it is schizophrenia what I experience, it still makes so much sense to me, it explains the anhedonia, the cognitive decline, and I’ve had auditory hallucinations for at least a year. My current MDD diagnosis also makes sense, but the voices, it just doesn’t add up to me, especially like in this recent episode where it was just narrating my actions. Update Thursday 11/28 I’ve been feeling terrible today, I have cried a lot, it was worse just a couple minutes ago. I was trying to do my homework but I just can’t, there is no motivation or creativity. I decided to play on the Xbox; I’ve never been that much of a gamer, and I really don’t have any games so I gave up on that too. Then I realized how I don’t really do much else, all I do is schoolwork, though now I can’t even do that. I began crying very hard. A combination of very strong thoughts and voices convinced me that there is no point in being here. I don’t know what else to say, I feel really bad. I don’t want to be in the hospital again, I have an appointment coming up for medication management, I don’t think he’s a psychiatrist but I’ll tell him I keep hearing voices. I just don’t understand why I’m good at times, and then this. I can’t finish my homework, that is making me very anxious. My mom told me if I was planning to register for next semester, I’ve already done it, I can still cancel that, but I also don’t want to. I don’t know what to do. Update Sunday 12/1 Last Friday I heard the voice yet again, this time it lasted for most of the day. A high-pitched voice was telling me over and over “You’re schizophrenic, you’re schizophrenic!” I was so fed up with it, it got to the point where I looked to my side and shouted “I know! Shut up!” I don’t know if it might actually be schizophrenia, it seems very likely. I just want to feel better and want the voices to stop. Update Friday 12/6 I saw my new psychiatrist last Tuesday, after explaining to him all of my symptoms he said that it would likely be major depression with psychotic features, but that he needed to see me again. The times I have experienced psychosis have been when I feel down, with a few when I feel fine, so we'll see what happens. He gave me a new medicine for depression. There are two weeks left in the semester and I still have so much to do. I just don't have the motivation, though slowly I've been getting things done, however, I need to hurry much more. I feel very sad, and I cry very frequently, almost just now in class. I've even lost motivation to learn Solidworks, which is all I could do before. I feel hopeless about the future, I don't know if I will be able to feel better next semester. I understand that schizophrenia is a lifelong condition, though some people will recover after an episode until the next. I know that it might not be schizophrenia, but it feels like it is, so I hope I will be able to get back to my life. I don't want to feel sad, I don't want to hear voices, I don't want to be scared of being outside, I want to be creative, cheerful, bright. I wish I could be that person again. Update Thursday 12/19 I keep hearing voices, last week they were narrating my actions and mocking me among themselves. It’s finals week, so I guess stress plays into it too. And I keep getting into those weird moments of trance, I stare into the distance and lay in weird positions, wasting a lot of time. Also, earlier this month the voices convinced me that one of my second-hand books had a curse which is causing me to have these symptoms, I sprung up from the bed, gathered every single book, and looked at each page looking for something demonic. I couldn’t find anything. I also did something very reckless, I don’t even want to write about it, but I promised never to do it again. I’m sick of the voices.

Going Back

Going Back

It was only until my last day in the hospital that I learned that my mood disorder is Major Depressive Disorder, severe, with Psychotic Features. I don’t know why they didn’t tell me before. It makes a lot of sense, the severe depression made the psychosis possible. Immediately after being discharged I had an argument with mom, she drove me home in silence and dropped me off at the entrance without exchanging words. I looked in my things for my key and went in. I lay on the couch for a few hours, trying to rest and process all that I missed. My mom got mad at me because I had promised to shower and organize my stuff from the hospital, and I could not do it that day. I decided that going to the October 7th memorial would be too much for me, I felt unclean and didn’t have the energy to go to a social event that big, so I slept for the rest of the day. The next day I went to school, it was a Tuesday, Digital Sketching; it’s the class with the most overdue assignments. But it was exciting to go to school, feeling less paranoid than before, I still felt paranoid but not as much. My mood decreased from what it was in the hospital. On Wednesday I had my first IOP meeting; it’s very similar to the groups we had in the psych unit, but you’re not hospitalized. I have been doing the IOP since and it will continue for a few more weeks. My motivation has been very low, comparable to how it was before going to the hospital; same with my mood. The only positive changes I perceive are the voices, they stopped, and the paranoia has decreased significantly with the Risperidone. I’m also taking Escitalopram for depression but so far it has not helped. I keep spending hours trying to do my assignments but I don’t feel motivated, I don’t have the creativity, and I get overwhelmed with the amount of things I have to do. But I do have moments when I feel a push to do things, completing what I have proposed for the day or completing something that should have taken me days in hours. People at the IOP recommend I go off from school to recover, but that is not really possible because my major is shutting down, and classes are going to be offered for the last time, so I won’t be able to retake them later. That’s been it for now, I’ve been wanting to write this post since I was discharged but I just couldn’t do it. Update 11/8 I wanted to take some time to write an update since this post was kinda short. So, I'm being discharged from the IOP next week. It's been weird, I have gone through waves of lack of motivation, to good productivity, and now sorta mid. I can tell I'm getting better though, slowly completing assignments. Two weeks ago I did my nails—I hadn't done them in months—and my eyebrows, I shaved, it felt great! Socially, I helped build a Sukkah at school with Hillel, which was very cool, I was helping with understanding the instructions, and providing some tricks; I made quite the fame of being good at building stuff. Our Sukkah was featured by the Hillel International Instagram account! And today, I went to my second Shabbat dinner. This time I didn't leave early due to overwhelm, I stuck around and was quite social, it felt good. I've been able to completely catch up with one of my classes, Design Sustainability; I'm going to be redesigning a lint roller to make it more sustainable. For Digital Sketching though, it has taken me a little more time, just yesterday I finished five drone designs which were our second assignment—I'm missing another six probably. I've been looking through the post I wrote during my breakdown; I'm so glad to have written down my experience. It's a little traumatic, I just hope never to be in that situation again.

Breakdown

Breakdown

I can't anymore. I feel extreme sadness and have zero motivation and zero creativity. I can't get my assignments done, and even if I really try I feel that my sketching skills are just gone. I cry frequently on a daily basis, I have frequent suicidal thoughts. I stopped being able to stay on top of my assignments, I have so many things piled up. I spend the day lying down in bed, if I must do something I will return exhausted to bed; after school, I just feel like lying on the floor. Paranoid thoughts make being outside terrifying. I reached out for help, which is one week away, but I don't think I'll make it to those appointments. Yesterday I had a big emotional breakdown as I was debating checking myself into a psychiatric hospital. Feeling overwhelmed, I decided to contact 988 through chat. I identified symptoms of schizophrenia about one month back, with the first instance happening two months ago. I first began hearing noises, which soon turned into voices telling me to do something I didn’t want to do, self-harm. I also began seeing myself in weird environments. Dissociation has been happening more frequently by the day I would say; even while driving my eyes just ‘lose their focus’ and I feel controlled by an external force as my mind is somewhere else. The sadness is just too much, I break into tears very frequently as I get stuck thinking about how I will fail my assignments, I feel guilt about not being able to get up and do my things. I don’t feel in danger of harming myself, but now I’ve also lost any desire to be alive. My third semester just began a month ago, and I was already struggling to keep up with assignments. I have needed to stay up all night to finish things which just worsens my symptoms and makes driving even more dangerous. This collection of occurrences made me realize that I need urgent help, even though I will have a meeting with someone from school this Tuesday, and I’ll be seeing the social worker on Thursday, I don’t think I’ll make it until then, and I might need to reach out for help sooner. I recorded the whole next situation on my Apple Watch. I sometimes do this to make the camera hallucination more realistic, sometimes I record on OBS as well. I was already having a conversation with my audience so I just decided to record the talk. I was sitting on my bed, attempting to sketch some drone designs when that realization hit. It was clear I cannot cope with these symptoms anymore so I looked up the nearest psychiatric hospital. The hospital just one block away has inpatient hospitalization. I figured I should go as soon as possible, but then I got overwhelmed with rampant thoughts of what my mom would think. When I was diagnosed with autism she never wanted to recognize the diagnosis. She refused to understand the coping mechanisms I had learned; she would tell me in an irritated tone “You don’t need that,” when she would see me putting my earplugs in which clearly worked for me, how could she know what I feel. And she frequently calls me stupid and retarded when I mishear things or fail to understand her. Many thoughts flooded my mind of her telling me terrible things about my psychotic symptoms and my decision to voluntarily go to the hospital; I was hearing those things vividly and got very overwhelmed. I began crying uncontrollably, it was hard to breathe, suicidal thoughts ran through my mind. I also began feeling worried about missing classes and assignments while hospitalized, like that fucking matters right now. Not to mention thoughts about how expensive a hospitalization would be. I began feeling scared and decided to chat with someone from the 988 hotline. While waiting for someone to connect I began feeling calmer but still split between going to the hospital or waiting until my appointments this week. When someone answered I told the whole situation I just wrote about. I didn’t feel I was getting any help; the other person looked like AI, with perfect grammar, saying back what I’d just said, it seemed sus. I revealed my symptoms of psychosis and that I was debating going to the hospital. They asked if I wanted to disclose any diagnoses; I said that based on my symptoms I was considering it might be schizophrenia. But yeah, it was weird, all I did was disclose information in what felt more like a survey for statistics. After the chat when I was feeling better, I kept talking for the recording for a little over an hour. Just as listening to the lived experience of autistic people helped me cope with the symptoms I was experiencing, I wanted to find some of those stories but from people with schizophrenia. I had already listened to some accounts, which were very similar to what I’m going through now. They had their first episodes of psychosis late in high school, early in college. Negative symptoms came first somewhat slowly, but the start of psychosis tended to be sudden. There would be depression, decline in hygiene. And they hid their symptoms relatively well, until they couldn’t anymore. Then, family members and friends would begin feeling concerned, they would call police to have them escorted to the hospital. And even if they were not suicidal or in active psychosis, police still patted them down and put them in handcuffs. So many times I’ve almost ended up in the same situation during arguments with mom. Although for different reasons, but back then I never recognized I needed help, I wonder what would have happened if my mom had left me at that psychiatric hospital one day instead of taking me to school. Or if police had gone up to our apartment as I was ready to open my 5th floor bedroom window. Anyway. I went on the schizophrenia subreddit, I found some comics that really spoke to me. There’s one about a person calling their symptoms ‘Ben,’ with many different things Ben makes them think and hear and see, about the meds they had taken, two of which had terrible side effects, and how even though Ben never left, they learned ways to cope with Ben, that it is okay to ask for help. The last three vignettes say: “Long story short: Ben sucks, but he’s a part of me now. And I’ll learn to live with him. Step by step.” This made me cry again, but now because I realized there is hope even though I do not feel it. The comic made me realize I am not alone in these irrational thoughts. In one of the vignettes Ben said to the person: “The neighbors are spying on you. They all make fun of you and because of that sound they know what you’re thinking about.” That felt too real, very similar to the thoughts that make me paranoid. I found another one of someone opening the cleaning cabinet, picking up a bottle of bleach and hearing a voice telling them to drink it. When I hear a voice it usually tells me to harm myself like that. Like throw yourself down the stairs or pick up the knife and stab yourself. Only once it’s told me to hit the person next to me on the bus, which of course, I didn’t. Lastly, I found a meme with two cats, the doctor goes: “I’m sorry sir, but you have been diagnosed with schizophrenia.” And the other cat says: “Chat, is this real?” And the doctor says: “Oh G-d, it’s getting worse.” That got a massive laugh out of me, after crying the whole day. It is referring to the camera hallucination, that I’ve read many people have. I am finishing writing this post Sunday night; writing here is the only thing I feel motivated to do. I couldn’t do my homework, and it’s a lot. I don’t feel comfortable driving, even though I’ve done it over the weekend, while raining. I don’t know if I should skip school tomorrow, have my counseling intake appointment Tuesday morning and see what happens. If I do end up skipping school tomorrow I need to catch up with all my homework, the best I can. And then see the social worker on Thursday, where she might likely consider a hospitalization. My symptoms are very much real, and I feel them worsening every day, but future me will get help, I will get meds, I will do counseling and slowly I’ll get my life back. For future me to get help I need to keep alive now. Update Monday 1:27 I just had another breakdown, I’m trying to write about it to calm down. I’m not going to school tomorrow, I’m going to the hospital. I very much need it, even though I get thoughts that it is not necessary, that my symptoms are not enough, I can’t anymore. They will help me there. I will miss classes, I will miss assignments, but that doesn’t matter. My mom might say mean things to me, but I will not tell her, someone from hospital will need to tell her I’m there. What worries me is that my mom doesn’t know about my symptoms. I promised myself I wouldn’t tell her about them because she can be very mean, and that is just going to kill me, it would hurt a lot. But I have become visibly upset, sad, and she still doesn’t notice. She is adamant that I’m lazy and that I should snap out of it when that is not the issue. Perhaps she does notice but doesn’t care, or won’t do anything about it because I’m 19 now and I’m supposed to care for myself. I don’t know, I’m just hoping she actually commends my decision to get help and recognizes the severity of what I’m feeling based on where I got myself hospitalized. It is a very scary thought, but I really need to do it. I recognize now that even though I don’t feel like I would hurt myself, just having constant thoughts of self-harm and those voices telling me to do terrible things is well enough to warrant hospitalization. So as scary as it is and as overwhelmed as it will make me feel, I will move forward with it. I will get the help I need. Update Monday 3:22 I am waiting to be admitted. This was extremely scary to do. But it was very important.

Maybe It's Not Autism

Maybe It's Not Autism

It’s been terrible the last couple of weeks… I feel worse than I did last December, terribly sad, lonely, hopeless. My suicidal ideations still occur, frequently. I feel drained, tired; at school this third semester I’m beginning to struggle with motivation and lack of creativity that I know once was there. The courseload is much greater than any of my past semesters—I think the trend line is clear at this point. I’m not sleeping enough, I’m missing assignments, and I feel like breaking into tears more than half the time. I began feeling better during the first months of the year when I started attending events, going places, and ‘meeting people.’ Despite those out-of-character efforts, I still failed to connect with anyone. As I began writing another post—still unpublished—I began writing about my social experiences.I really struggle with making friends, I don’t know what makes it so difficult. I feel overwhelmed with fear, it forces me to stare at the ground, make zero eye contact, and thoughts that people are out to get me flood my head. I finished my last year of high school without making a single friend; there were many days I didn’t even speak a word at school.After writing one more paragraph I decided to zoom out and read back what I’d just written. “Thoughts that people are out to get me flood my head;” In that moment my mind made the connection to schizophrenia; “That sounds like schizophrenia,” I went, internally. I don’t know where I learned that such paranoid thoughts and isolation were symptoms of schizophrenia, but I knew it. I also knew that a person with schizophrenia experiences intense psychosis, such as hearing voices, which began feeling somewhat similar to other personal experiences. I began to question why I get so intensely overwhelmed in social situations. Most of those paranoid thoughts I get occur when I’m in public without necessarily interacting with people. I feel that people are staring at me, judging my every move, and that’s when I get thoughts of them wanting to hurt me, or if I hear laughter I think they are making fun of me. It gets extremely uncomfortable and scary. Sometimes people do look at me, even though I’m not looking at them I can see their heads turn on the edge of my vision. Sometimes they are just looking in my direction, past me, and this also triggers it, but I almost never look up to confirm they are not looking at me. I first described this feeling in a past post from high school as I was debating if it was all in my head or not. Feeling that scared makes it hard to feel relaxed, I do not participate in class, I get overwhelmed at temple, I keep my head down, and miss familiar people that walk by. It is a terrible thing. Shortly after, I recalled writing about what I call a ‘delusional episode’ on the Dysautonomia symptoms page. Knowing now what a delusion is, the way I call such episodes is not really accurate. They are times when I feel numb, in trance, fatigue takes over me, and sometimes I hear voices, or have conversations with people as if it were a dream but being very much awake. That time on August 2nd I was laying in an awkward position on the couch with my head under some cushions for some 45 minutes. I began seeing the interior of a noisy shopping mall with lots of people; my perception began feeling overwhelmed by the noise and occasionally, a person, more like a black figure would appear in front of me and say something very scary which made me physically spasm. So recalling a time when I heard voices in my head and my usual paranoia made me realize that, at least with the paranoia; my daily experiences look like schizophrenia, and the auditory hallucinations, of course, very much relevant to schizophrenia. So, some learning was in order. Ideas of reference could be like I explained, when I hear laughter behind me, I immediately think it’s people making fun of me. Magical thinking; this one was interesting to learn about. So, I’ve always felt a special connection with the number 13, my favorite. As 133, it was the username Instagram assigned to me since my first choice was taken. When I glance up at the clock randomly it just so happens that it is 11:33, or 1:33, or 21:33. In the airport, Gates 1-33. My heart rate lingers at 133 bpm sometimes; I have a screenshot of an hour long workout with my current and average heart rate being 133. I began thinking of this weird but frequent occurrence as a manifestation of Hashem in my life; spotting the number makes me smile and say Toda Lecha up to the sky, but it was only recently that I discovered that the gematria of ‘echad’ is 13, and you know how the Shema goes. 1:33 am right now finishing writing this paragraph. I also talk, a lot, ‘alone.’ I don’t exactly talk to myself; I have a hallucination of a floating camera that follows me around all day and through it I broadcast to an audience of some 200 people that can interact with me. So when I talk to the camera I look at it, it commonly sits slightly to my side and points down at me, I do gestures at it, I tell the audience what is happening, engage in intense conversation, more like speech or monologue, about my day, how are things going, what I need to do, serious topics, etc. Sometimes I whisper at the camera when I cannot be loud, and when there’s people around I tell the audience I am going to transmit my voice directly to the camera, so they won’t see my mouth moving but they’ll hear me. I can switch the camera to my eyes, so the audience would see my pov. The stream layout has at the top a box reading out my every thought which I usually say aloud right away, or if the thought is too long or too complex I tell the audience “Thinkbox,” so they read the box. This feels different from being observed at all times, I find it relaxing and helpful for self-reflection and do not consider it a hindrance. Also relevant to schizophrenia is excessive daydreaming. I commonly get absorbed into my own thoughts which is a problem sometimes. Mom always says I’m in my own world, I fail to hear what people say to me, fail to understand instructions, and I get frequently caught during dissociation which makes me very self-conscious afterward. So, recognizing the symptoms, I looked up some questionnaires that did indicate the possibility of schizophrenia. However the questions on the tests sounded familiar to me; I realized some of them were part of my autism diagnosis. I looked up the file for the BASC-3 test I underwent and sure enough, the type of questions on the schizophrenia questionnaire were categorized as ‘atypicality’ on the BASC. The graph displaying the T-scores of each category showed my atypicality score as being the highest of all categories and it is halfway through the clinically significant range. If you look at the atypicality questions it is pretty clear that they are supposed to screen for schizophrenia spectrum symptoms.I feel like people are out to get me. I hear things others cannot hear, People think I’m strange. I see weird things. I hear voices in my head that no one else can hear. Even when alone, I feel like someone is watching me.So since my autism diagnosis I have recognized that I have those weird perceptions but didn’t know what they were related to. The result itself says that such a high score usually warrants follow-up, and that never happened. I am doubting my autism diagnosis, because even though some symptoms of schizophrenia can be similar to autism, I can’t see an autistic person getting that kind of unusual perceptions, hallucinations, and odd thinking. My next clinically significant results on the BASC were social anxiety, somatization, internalizing problems, hyperactivity, and interpersonal relations. I can immediately see how accurate those results are; social anxiety, no mystery there, somatization would be struggling with physical health symptoms, that I have described extensively on the Dysautonomia page. I guess I do internalize my problems, I hesitate to ask for help, until I realize I just can't cope. I decided to tell my doctor about all of this. I wrote a note because I knew I wouldn’t be able to get it all out without getting nervous. She read through my symptoms and the confessions I mentioned in the last post; she was very supportive and tried to understand some of my symptoms that weren’t too clear. She said I should talk to the social worker there but she was out for the day. She made sure I was not at risk of hurting myself and that I had support in the meantime. Revealing what pretty much all I’ve written here and in the Lies post was very scary, but I’m glad I did it, and now I’m going to get some help. The social worker contacted me and I am scheduled for next week. Same for counseling at school, I finally called to make an appointment, and after the intake appointment, they are probably going to provide a referral somewhere else. I had been looking forward to my appointment for more than a month. I began developing a dread sensation and had frequent thoughts that I would never make it to the appointment, that I would die before it, from lack of sleep, driving tired, not eating, due to my dedication to my assignments. I did have my appointment, but now I have to survive until next week Tuesday, and then until Thursday, and then until whatever date comes out of that Thursday meeting until I don’t have to survive anymore and instead will want to keep living again. I know deep down I do not want to die, even though at the moment my mind is partial about it. Additionally, school is becoming increasingly difficult. My third semester has just started and I'm already having to pull all-nighters to get work done. I feel that my motivation is gone, and my drawing skills are too; it is hard to come up with ideas, I spend hours just pondering on what to do for a project, and when sketching I have such a hard time getting it just right and get it done quickly. I've become terrified of what will become of me professionally when I once had such optimism and motivation that made me feel I could tackle anything. On the Industrial Design subreddit people frequently post about the lack of jobs in this field, even senior designers are struggling. People shift to other fields, newcomers get a big slap telling them to seriously reconsider getting into ID; the future seems very scary. And even if I ever get an interview, it is very likely employers are not going to want someone like me. I am beginning to think I should switch careers to something that would be stable. However, on some posts on the ID subreddit people say that if you like doing design, if you enjoy it, then it will be a great experience, hard nonetheless; you will definitely need to be willing to move to where the jobs are, and practice, practice, practice your skills. I certainly do enjoy it, I love building physical models in the shop and recreating objects in Solidworks; even though I'm having a hard time with it now, I know I would have a blast ideating concepts and later focusing excessively on details. But ID requires social skills, networking is essential, presentations, emails, and phone calls are a daily thing, and that's scary because I know I have big social issues. I'm hopeful I will make it; when I can get my sketches done they are amazing, teachers commend those skills frequently, and I've made a bit of fame for making clean sketches and models. However, I guess I do need to consider that if my mental condition doesn't improve, or develops into something worse, I should at least be working on having stable economic means. Let's see what happens...

Lies

Lies

I was 15 years old when I learned about HRT as I was discovering I might be trans. I immediately knew I had to get it as fast as possible, I could not stand seeing my body transform into a gender I know I am not every day that goes by, I thought, hormonal treatment would put an end to that, it would even correctly shape my body, as a woman. HRT is most certainly a privilege; some states and even entire countries have banned it, and some people cannot have it for health concerns, not to mention how expensive it is. Thankfully, I had amazing support from my mom who helped me find a doctor who could oversee the treatment and write an Rx, my mom would buy me a box of both Estradiol and Spironolactone every month, and when we moved to the US, she bought me a stockpile to have while we found a doctor here. As time went by, I became the person I should have always been, both inside and out, I really cannot express how grateful I am! Everything went just fine having found a doctor who could oversee my treatment, just one street away from home. But if you have read my previous posts, you may know I began having a hard time, mentally. The usual routine visit with my doctor goes as follows: I get some labs done at least two weeks before my meeting; it’s always interesting to see how my testosterone is just dead on the ground, not even there, lol. During my visit, she begins by asking which changes I’ve noticed in me since we last met, it’s always hard for me to tell, I don’t know why, I just know I love the overall changes. I mention just a small aspect and we move on. She then asked me about pill compliance, to which I respond no doses missed. Next comes mood changes, self-harm thoughts, I deny. Some more questions, enough water? standing up frequently? I nod. Lastly, a quick physical examination and that’s it, return in six months. I don’t think I have ever told her the complete truth. Drinking enough water as a trans woman is very important, the meds we take can be very hazardous to the kidneys. Those meds can mess with arteries and cause blood clots, and spider veins therefore it is important to not sit for long periods. I experience frequent fainting, usually when getting up or stretching, which has led my mom to believe I might be anorexic or maybe it’s the HRT meds that are affecting me negatively. I however think I might be lacking in some vitamins and a proper diet since I’ve had these episodes long before HRT, my earliest memory 13 years old, 2018. Anyway, I shared this with my doctor who hurried to grab the blood pressure meter cuff and told me to lie down for a while and then stand up slowly.I have no explanation for my frequent fainting, it’s just so weird. Almost every time I get up, immediately my sight goes dark, like tunnel vision starting from the edges to the center until everything is black, can’t see anything, this lasts max five seconds. At this point I begin feeling very weak and need to rest on something, I feel an annoying pulsating sound in my head, like my heartbeat. Another five seconds, after which my sight is back, any weakness is gone, I regain balance and can move on like nothing ever happened. This can also be triggered somewhat on purpose, by stretching, I can usually feel it coming and thus know when to stop, sometimes out of curiosity I’ve tried not to stop, I lose consciousness entirely, just drop dead to the ground, no hands. This happened once, in 2018 in front of my entire family one Sunday, I stretched, overdid it, and fell. People said my eyes were gone, I was gone. Out of nowhere, I get up, like nothing happened, not dizzy, nothing, just annoyed everyone around was hogging me, trying to help, really. By that time I had become accustomed to it, just wait ten seconds and get over it, but I had never fully passed out. I usually can hear and reply to people, that time I felt unable to speak or move. My mom got really scared. Some time later we went to the doctor to discuss this issue and all I can remember is an oxygen meter and her pressing my fingernails really hard, telling me they didn’t recover their color quickly and that I needed more vitamins.Doctor told me to drink enough water and to be careful when standing up, to do it slowly. When I returned home I checked our visit log, every single response ever is there, I located the vitals of the little test she did, and scrolling further down she wrote that my heartbeat increases when changing position but not my blood pressure, however, what was written after was a little scary. She wrote she might consider lowering my Spironolactone dose but my testosterone might increase. To avoid this from happening I was determined to improve my water intake habits; I got myself a water tracker app and tried my best. It didn’t work, I am terrible at staying on top of my water needs, I don’t know why, not even with the app I could do it. During our next visit, I just told her the fainting had gone away somewhat. Notes say: “ She has been drinking plenty of water. No dizziness, no lightheadedness.” I feel very, very stupid, but that is not the only time I’ve lied to her. August 2023 was when my suicidal thoughts came back, the beginning of a very draining time. I had my meeting with her on the last day of the month. I denied the suicidal ideations question. As I turned sadder I began forgetting doses, just the evening dose, both doses, both doses two days in a row; I kept denying having missed doses. I feel very ashamed, and I feel the need to come clean about everything. Yesterday I began feeling tingling in my hands and feet at around 8 pm, at first I thought my position on the couch caused them to go numb, but then I stood up and moved around, and the feeling remained, it’s now 9 am, still feel it. I couldn’t fall asleep; out of nowhere I remembered I could purposefully trigger the full fainting by stretching, somehow I thought it would help me fall asleep faster if I just passed out. I stretched, multiple times, but it didn’t happen; nothing weird, I don’t blackout a hundred percent of the time. Staring at the ceiling I began detailing in my mind the two types of fainting, when standing up and when overstretching. Halfway through I had the brilliant idea to type out that list to ChatGPT and have it tell me what those symptoms amount to; it is such a GPT prompt, I have no idea how I never thought of it before. Anyway, it’s AI, not a doctor, so my research wouldn’t stop there. I read some articles from the NIH and the AI seems to be accurate. Anyway, I finally know what my near-fainting might be, Dysautonomia; I'm so happy to know after all this time. I definitely want to tell my doctor that I keep experiencing the fainting. I went back to my visit notes from August 2023, my mind was so focused on the thought of my Spironolactone dose being lowered and my Testosterone levels increasing back then that I glossed past the beginning of the bullet point: orthostatic symptoms. I really need help, I know I can’t get past my psychological problems on my own, perhaps my doctor could refer me somewhere, but I can only imagine what would happen if I told her everything. Because of the fainting, she might lower my doses, but because of the suicidal thoughts she might take my meds away altogether, and she’d probably have to call my mom and get her involved. But I think that’s the best thing for me right now, she’d be a third party who would explain to my mum who refuses to recognize the state I’m in. And about the meds, I don’t even take them because I forget, so what I’d lose—I know that’s not really how it works. Whatever happens, it will be significant, but it will really help me out. For now I’m glad to finally have something to call these weird episodes. I hope everything will be fine. Update 15:00 I decided to grab the blood pressure monitor and run one of the tests I had been reading about. It consists of laying down for at least five minutes, take BP. Stand up as normal, take BP after one minute standing, and again five minutes after. I found that my blood pressure increased, a lot. Reading format: Laying down / delta / after standing up / after 5 minSYS: 106 / +48 / 154 / 124DIA: 62 / +25 / 87 / 85BPM: 70 / +47 / 117 / 105POTS diagnosis +40 bpm (until 19, onset 14) / I got +47 My heart rate increased by 47 beats per minute after standing up, more than what's required for a POTS diagnosis. I've always thought my near-fainting was just a little more extreme case of what everyone experiences, nearly everyone can feel dizzy after standing up sometimes. Looking at the numbers, I mean, I realize how serious this is, and I just write it off as a little 15-second annoying moment. From lying down to slowly sitting on the edge of my bed to standing up my bpm went into a little tachycardia from 70 to 117! When I walk with my mom in the park my Apple Watch reports my bpm to be +30 that of hers, and we are walking at the same pace. I don't know, there's something significant going on, and I promise to tell my doctor about it, perhaps show her this post. Update Monday 5, 4:10 I have been reading about common symptoms of POTS such as intense fatigue, a lingering pain all over, nausea, and of course the near fainting, and loss of vision. And I experience all of this, and I never thought those symptoms could be related to my near fainting, I mean, even the fucking massive hiccups I get for like half an hour sometimes are related to dysautonomia, my hands getting red at times, and my need to lay down and not do anything from intense pain and tiredness, what my mom loves calling ’ laziness’ once every bloody hour. I don’t know how I could feel so much general pain and think is normal; it’s like being sore all over, limbs feel heavy, lots of tingling, and pretty much ignored it. My experience showering and washing dishes I detailed in my autism post, both activities are done standing, and I hate them, I always sit down to do things when I can. When my mom spots me sitting she goes “why are you sitting? You don’t do that sitting, you’re so lazy,” when ironing or putting clean laundry away, I guess my body recognizes how draining it is yet my brain doesn’t get the memo. Anyway, both activities leave me drained for a long while and all I want to do is lay down. So a couple of hours ago I had a little moment of optimism, just like I had when I began seeing my autism as my complement, traits that make me who I am; dedicated, curious, clever. I thought of dysautonomia as the key to my massive self-esteem and optimism. If you think of it, my sole existence is a challenge, painful sometimes, yet I prevail, because I push through things. Getting to my classroom involves lots of walking in the sun from my car, and so many times I’ve arrived nearly passing out, and when I enter the classroom, all sweaty, people start coming up to me to see my homework sketches; I happen to have made some fame from my sketching. But I wouldn’t be there with my amazing sketches if the night before I hadn’t pushed through my pain to get up and work. And this philosophy extends elsewhere, my drive to always deliver, most times more than I’m asked for. Like my trash can last winter; teacher wanted us to make a trash can model out of cardboard, he provided sketches, a 3D model and instructions on how to make the mechanism to make it functional, but allowed freedom to change the mechanism. I despised the way the design looked with such mechanism, I wanted a cleaner, modern look, it was a challenge, lots of planning, doing, redoing, but I did it, I didn’t give up, I committed and pushed through the challenges, which also included driving to school and back, walking to my car. It makes me so proud and reassured that despite my challenges I can still do it, I can get through this chronic pain even while setting myself an extra challenge; I feel I could do anything. So, ‘lazy,’ fuck that, I literally work out just by standing up.

Still Sad?

Still Sad?

In the final weeks of Fall 2023, I fell into a terrible depression, I could not bring myself out of bed, not even for my favorite activities, my mind was constantly blasted with long dormant flashes of self-harm, and I cried, desperately asking why I couldn't feel better. However, after discovering Judaism I gained an unexplainable drive to learn about it, even though finding motivation to do just about anything felt impossible. I spent hours hyper-focused on reading about the Torah, beliefs, and practices and remained distracted from those terrible self-harm thoughts. As time went by, such thoughts subsided; I went back to school with a newly found enthusiasm; having decided to convert to Judaism, I felt capable of making new connections, and I was ready to continue making impactful sketches that would impress my teachers. For a while, everything went well, I was regularly hanging out with my friends from Hillel, and in class, I was frequently commended for my attention to detail and great line weight in my sketching. But at some point, things began sliding back. Our courseload suddenly increased and I had to stay up all night frequently to do my assignments, but sometimes I just couldn't, and handing in things late made me feel really bad. This rhythm remained constant until the end of the semester and I tried my very best, but sometimes I was not able to make it. At home, I had begun to introduce Jewish practices into my routine, but I had yet to go to a synagogue and talk with the rabbi to officially start the conversion process. I knew I would have to tell my mom about my intention to convert, so I could go out without making dumb excuses. And I did, and her response was somewhat mixed, accepting, but then not, and talked with that hostile tone she does without thinking. I became scared to mention anything related to Judaism, and communication between us became shut. I cannot discuss the topic with her and it makes me hesitant to recite blessings for my food when she's around, and leaving the house for Shabbat service gets scary. I finished the semester barely sleeping but I did it, and with amazing grades, I even made it to the Dean's List. And recently, my mom has become slightly more open to talking about my conversion, she even accompanied me to a Shabbat service, that's a massive step in the right direction, Baruch Hashem! And yet, those self-harming thoughts still linger, it is still difficult to stand up each morning, or noon if I'm being honest. Why? It's clear I'm having trouble getting past this on my own, and like I did in December, I'm open to therapy, but it's so expensive plus it did nothing other than overdraft my bank account last time. Last week while walking in the park my mom began discussing what she calls my 'laziness.' This time I decided to just say it, I have not been doing well for the last half a year, and I need help. She switched to that hurtful tone and basically told me that I'm on my own. I don't know what I was expecting, last time I told her about my suicidal thoughts she just encouraged them. It is terrifying and dangerous that my own mother was telling me to just do it. Perhaps she thought I was not capable of doing it, but it could have gone both ways. But it's true, I found evidence that since I was 10 years old I've had these thoughts, but I have never harmed myself, because that's not really what I want. A mitzvah from the Torah has been keeping those thoughts away, When I get a flash I just tell myself to 'choose life,' and the negative thoughts go away. I just know that if my mom and I could just talk about everything, things would improve. But communication doesn't really exist between us. I can only ask Hashem to keep me hopeful. So, since the semester ended I was stripped of a familiar routine and now I struggle to do much of anything, so I've been working on an all-encompassing routine for the rest of the summer that will get me out of bed at a good time and to go outside for walks and exercise. I know that will help.

Overworked

Overworked

This last semester was crazy! I handed in my last assignment under a deadline extension and still late yesterday. When the semester started I tried to figure out if my workload was similar to or higher than my past semester and at first it seemed to be par, however, that quickly changed. For one of my classes, Form Language, each week I was asked to make a sculpture of sorts. Bending strips of paper, bending wire, cutting foam, using clay, etc. These projects required me to go to school when I didn't even have class—one such sculpture took eight hours to finish, although it was the simplest one, I'll get to that. For that same class, after the sculptures, we began designing our own lounge chair. In the ideation process, we had to draw 100 sketches—I believe I mentioned that in a previous post and that combined with assignments for other classes. I went from being able to observe Shabbat to needing to use that time to work on homework, it feels terrible. I began staying up all night, sometimes forgetting to eat and having to leave in the morning back to school. I drove so many times without proper sleep—Baruch Hashem I am fine. I was trying my hardest, but I began failing to deliver things on time, however, I am proud that the quality of my work did not suffer, my health did tho. My final projects included designing a chanukiah, designing a chair, and breaking down the manufacturing processes of a vacuum cleaner, all of which turned out beautiful. The goal for my chanukiah was to make it modern but still fit for fulfilling the mitzvah. It is made of Jerusalem stone: dolomite and limestone, and has a suspended silver Magen David filled with Eilat stone. I had to present my design and process to the whole class and everyone liked it, and thankfully no one protested; I think the only anti-zionist in the program left the classroom before my presentation. My chair came together beautifully! Iteration after iteration, I arrived at a design that represented three words that served as my design goals. Me being me, failing to see that I could barely keep alive, I decided to give myself a challenge. Along with my chair design, I also had to make a 1:3 model of it. Teacher wanted them to be all-white, so foam was probably the choice material. I immediately knew that if I were to use just foam I would need to do a lot of sanding. Someone asked teacher if we could use wood and she said that if we were to use wood, we would have to go all the way, using real fabric to upholster the chair. Everyone decided to go with foam, but I decided to upholster my chair. It was easy, I know how to sow; and during the process I learned how to stain wood, using pre-stain, and finishing it with polyurethane. However, after having an all-nighter finishing my model I failed to make my presentation, so I went to class Monday morning with just my model. Teacher seemed to like my model, and she just requested I finish my presentation before midnight. Having finished my chair presentation at midnight, I immediately needed to work on the manufacturing breakdown project due Tuesday at 2 pm. I only managed to sketch and render a hero view, and a sketch showing the pivoting motion of the vacuum cleaner. In class, teacher asked nonchalantly "Who's dropping out? I know you are all tired." I've heard him say in the past that people have left the program not because they don't have the skills, but because they can't keep up, and others because they don't have the passion. Now, I certainly have the skills and passion, and I worked my hardest, and yet, I was failing to deliver. About to start crying, I asked my teacher for an extension, which he agreed to. I told him I would probably be done in two days—I was so, so wrong. Failing to determine how long something will take me was a frequent challenge. After talking with him I went for a walk, I entered the staircase and went halfway upstairs where I knew no one would see me, sat down, and broke down in tears. How was I the only one who struggled so much with meeting deadlines; I worked day and night and still I couldn't finish. I remember spending hours, hours on a single sketch; up to a point is normal, but it's just too much. One of my sculptures for Form Language consisted of three rectilinear shapes, aka, just three rectangles put together. It really shouldn't have taken me more than one hour, it took me eight, I went home 9 pm. Being autistic I pay extreme attention to detail, something very useful in this field and frequently recognized. However, it's too much it has become a hindrance. I sat sobbing on that thought for a few minutes before going back to the classroom. To meet my planned new deadline in two days, I probably should have left right away and keep working. However, I decided to stay and asked my friend Liz if she wanted to play Among Us which we were unable to play last week. We were just two people and Among Us online with strangers sucks, so she introduced me to Brawl Stars. We played until 6 pm and during that time we bonded further. She then walked me to the bus station and said goodbye for now. It was so nice to just relax and play with a friend which I hadn't in years. I finished the vacuum project Sunday midnight, I decided to keep Shabbat and not sketch. And even though I didn't finish in the two days I had planned, my project turned out beautiful. It was one of my first attempts at rendering with color pencil yet it looked awesome. And my teacher gave me a very good grade. I put myself through a lot, I could have just waived a white flag, accepting there was too much on me, and prioritized my health instead. I didn't do that and instead ended up with As. I have conflicting opinions about that; on one hand, I am closer to success, and with those grades, I finally made the honor roll—I was 0.005 GPA points short last semester,— but on the other hand you have my mom's opinion, what's the point of getting straight As if at the end I'm gonna be dead. So now I can finally rest and get ready for next semester. So many things have happened with my Judaism, and I can't wait to get that stuff written down.

Going Out to Events

Going Out to Events

Woah, it has been difficult to find time to write here. All of a sudden my workload ramped up from just a couple of sketches per class to dozens, even hundreds—that’s product design for you. I’m gonna write down some of the highlights from the last couple of months. After the Tu B’Shevat event, Hillel organized a group prayer for the hostages in the school’s prayer room. It was a little intimidating because the Muslim community on campus has basically taken over the entire room and social hall outside. They installed a custom-cut mat to the size of the room, and I guess that they didn’t want us to go in with shoes on. Just about when a conflict was about to begin, some guy took his shoes off and rolled the mat aside. Our ‘minyan’ consisted of six women, not quite 10, and not quite male, but the prayer was very powerful. Afterward, we went to a very little hang out room where I was able to introduce myself to other members of Hillel. It was very nice to begin meeting people. We talked about having little breakout clubs for more specific bodies of Jewish students, and about some of the antisemitism on campus lately. Hillel got us custom cups and solidarity dog tags for the hostages! Then we had a Shabbat dinner! We ate Chinese food, which I had never tried, and it was also my first time seeing candle lighting in person. It was very cool, many people came who were genuinely interested in the ritual. But there was a lot of noise, and I couldn’t find anyone to talk to, and I got overwhelmed. I left early, not by much, but I still enjoyed it! Afterward, we had a Hamantaschen Bake, it was very nice—and delicious. When I was coming in, I was disappointed that 'Sarah' (to protect the lovely person) was not there. She works for Hillel organizing and providing what’s needed for events. She has always been kind to me and I feel more comfortable when she is around. However other Hillel members I knew from previous meetings were there. And on the Thursday before Purim, after the minor fast ended we had a party at an arcade! I got a t-shirt with a Magen David made of Hamantaschen and everyone loved it. I was with my friend for most of the time, we played Tetris—which I suck at—and racing games. Hillel got us very delicious Mishloach Manot. I think this was the first time I’ve been to a party in a very long time. Lastly, this event was very special. We set up a Shabbat table with 134 empty seats in solidarity with the hostages in the middle of the quad. The scale was shocking, it really helps you realize what 134 people look like, missing. We put a plate and cutlery for everyone. We also took out candlesticks and spread them around the tables. I was in charge of taping many posters to the back of the chairs, staring at every single photo, name. I guess my subconscious memorized them because I would later recall when I was putting them on while reciting a prayer at temple. When we were done we sat at one of the outdoor tables on the quad and contemplated everyone walking by. Some took their time to read the information sign, others scoffed after looking at it for just a second, and others were confounded by the massive table and amount of empty seats. A group of Muslim students came around and just overlooked as we were setting the table. They suddenly walked off while shouting something. Later on, a lot more returned they sat at the stairs in front of the cordoned area we had. There was a crazy amount of police, but they wouldn’t really do anything against them. Until one of the people sitting took out a sign, which they were not allowed to. Although we had to complain before police did anything. We were ready to take everything down as soon as out allowed time ran out to avoid having the growing group outside give us shit because our time was over. They just sat there watching us take down all of the posters and everything. When we were done, everyone got a challah to take home. It was quite terrifying walking out of that cordoned area, but everyone was safe. Actually, I also participated in another event though not from Hillel. It was the Community Mitzvah Day from the Jewish Federation. It was very cool. I gave tzedakah and volunteered to pack food for Pesach. When I went into the building the rabbi there welcomed me and a family in front of me in Hebrew. The mom replied something in Hebrew and then rabbi asked me if I also spoke Hebrew, to which I nervously replied “no…just English.” My guess is that he asked the family the same thing and the mom replied something with the word anachnu, which was the only thing I picked up, to say that they all spoke Hebrew. Anyway, Rabbi said we could help assemble boxes of set up a station for a specific food item. I went for the boxes given my recent experience doing the same in Mexico when we emptied our old apartment and put everything in self-storage. I had set for myself the goal to be as social as possible, so I talked with the person who was already assembling boxes, whose name I regretfully can’t remember. When I told him that I go to college and that I am part of Hillel he got excited since he is involved with Hillel. Sarah arrived shortly after and we all had a good time assembling boxes. Later, Mark came by to help but we didn’t have an extra tape gun, so he proposed he’d fold the box and I would tape it. We were going crazy fast, we were stacking the boxes in a pyramid but it got sooo big, I was completely boxed in at the very end, I couldn’t take a step. I then went around the food stations a couple times. Sarah waited for me for her final lap and we took a selfie for Hillel’s page. I’ve managed to do so much after deciding to convert to Judaism. Never before had I attended such events from a group at school, or gone to parties with friends. I’m really excited about this journey and proud of the steps that I’ve taken so far.

Joining Hillel

Joining Hillel

I’ve joined a Jewish organization at school, Hillel! They are very nice and welcoming! I honestly have never met a nicer group at school. So, I first registered for an event they were hosting, a talk by a Holocaust survivor. The story was very moving, I’ve never heard an account in person like that. When it ended, I approached someone—the same person who introduced the speaker and ended the event—and told them I was interested in joining Hillel. They asked me for my details and also asked me if I was Jewish. I said “not exactly,” I mean, I’m a Jew-to-be, so I told them that I am converting to Judaism. And later that evening I received an email confirming my membership! And, I just want to underscore that joining a club in person like that was a monumental step coming from me. Talking to someone new is something that I find very difficult, but this time I could actually do it! I really wanted to join, and I guess that helped me. Since then, I have attended more events from Hillel. My second event was a talk by a Palestinian advocate. I really wanted to attend this one and hear the perspective and thoughts of someone who is from Palestine. When I arrived at school, I noticed they had changed the venue. The event was going to happen in the Student Center, in a very small conference room. The venue was now across the road, in University Hall, the biggest building on campus, and at the very top floor. I took the elevator to the seventh floor and when the doors opened I was welcomed by countless police officers. I was a bit scared and didn’t know where to walk, but one of the officers told me to go down the hallway. There was a big line; people had to check in before going into the conference hall. Many people didn’t register beforehand and they were backing up the line. When I finally walked in, I first looked out the windows. The view was incredible; campus is already on top of a hill, and I was in the tallest building. We were facing the opposite direction from New York City though, so that was a shame. Walking further into the hall I found two sides of the room to sit at. On the left side people seemed to be students, and on the right teachers and other visitors. The left side, however, was already pretty cramped, so I decided to sit at the far right of the hall. Then, just minutes after the event had started, most people sitting on the left side of the room stood up at once. They shouted something in a foreign language and left. It was scary, police didn’t do anything. The speaker kept talking all throughout. Just think about it for a moment, the Palestinian speaker is here sharing his opinion on how to solve the conflict in Israel, and those people, claiming to support a ‘free Palestine’ do something like that; to an actual Palestinian! Anyway, the speaker also mocked the situation. Afterward, when people were asking questions, someone in the row behind me started talking. He claimed to be an English teacher at the university. He was just reading from a paper and never asked a question; he was rambling on about some statistics. His question was more like a statement justifying the actions by Hamas and people started getting mad. Someone asked him loudly: “Sir, what’s your question?" Before soon, everyone was shouting and telling him to shut up. Even the speaker—still holding the microphone—shouted at him, telling him to sit down and shut up. Police came in this time and dragged him out of the room. I was very overwhelmed by the noise. I get a weird response when people shout at each other. I cried a bit, but it was not too bad. I managed to calm down and the event ended quite happily, despite those incidents. I greeted the person I had approached to join Hillel and offered to help clean up but there was nothing to clean, so they just thanked me. They told me we were going to have a planting event for Tu BiShevat and I told them I would attend. I later realized that I had class at the exact time of the Tu BiShevat event, so that day I arrived earlier to school and went to to venue of the event to at least help set up things. I met the same person again who signed me up to Hillel and told them I might just make it to the event after class. And I did, most people had already left, but some hadn’t. I started talking to someone while I decorated my pot. I’m so glad to be meeting some Jewish peers! I wrote ‘טו בשבט’ on my pot and drew a little tree. They had some seeds left over, so I selected Spearmint because I was told the plant smells very nice. So now I’m waiting for the seeds to grow. It’s been great being part of the Jewish community at school, everyone is really kind; even though I’m a bit awkward, they are respectful. I’m looking forward to more Hillel events. Next Friday we are having a Shabbat dinner, and later we are baking some Hamantaschen for Purim!

Trans Discussion Group

Trans Discussion Group

I’ve missed writing so many things, I didn’t feel like writing over the semester. So, over at college, there is a discussion group every Thursday for trans students! I’ve been wanting to meet other trans people ever since I came out, I never really met or even saw another person like me. So, I went to the first meeting, but it was a bit awkward. I stumbled a lot while presenting myself and talking. I ended up just sitting there. I experience this frequently; it is called being situationally mute. In certain environments, I simply cannot talk, like in class, even if I know the answer to teachers’ questions, most of the time I go numb and can’t get a word out. I was way too nervous, even though they said there was no pressure for me to talk in the meetings. I went to another two meetings, and the same happened. It was nice to attend, but I ultimately realized that I was different from everyone there regarding the way I express my transness. I’ve always identified as highly feminine, and that has been my goal throughout my transition. So I put a lot of effort into making sure my skin is smooth and without hair, and I also police my voice a lot. Most of them identify somewhere outside the binary or have a gender expression in which they just don’t care to appease other people like doing the actions I described. And I get it, I’ve felt that way sometimes, but I find that I feel discomfort and dysphoria when I don’t do those things. So I stopped going as I didn’t feel comfortable.

Depression

Depression

I felt at my worst two weeks before the end of my first semester of college, I cried out of nowhere, waking up was harder than usual, and I didn’t feel any motivation to do the things I love the most. Those last two weeks were final projects submissions and my performance was impacted. I handed a couple of works late, which made me feel terrible since I had not done such a thing for a long time. For my design projects I couldn’t find motivation, I spent hours trying to draw my iron design a certain way and couldn’t work it out. I had to move forward with a shape I didn’t like if I wanted to finish. I had to pull many all-nighters but failed to stay up sometimes, which led to late submissions. I didn’t sleep from Monday to Tuesday of the second week, and somehow I felt energetic all throughout, which is unusual. By the end of the day, just as I got in the elevator I nearly collapsed, like the phantom energy that I had was suddenly taken away. It was extremely draining and unhealthy. It’s just that I am a very happy and cheerful person, but I couldn’t do anything! It sounds dumb and feels dumb, but I didn’t have the energy or motivation to do anything. I missed my design project deadline and the submission was locked on Canvas. I felt devastated, I quickly wrote an email to my teacher asking for more time, mentioning that I was having mental health difficulties. Thankfully, he extended my deadline for Friday. I worked very hard and at my fastest, and the quality actually was very good but I felt I could do better. I finished scanning my work at 1:59 and couldn’t rename the file name so I could submit it before 2pm. Since we are supposed to rename files I felt terrible because I didn’t do it. I think that is an autistic thing, feeling terrible after breaking a rule. I also had been working on a cardboard trashcan project and as usual, I decided to go above and beyond with it. I made it extremely complicated for myself, but the result was a very clean look. At least up until things began to not go as planned. I had to replace some elements very quickly, and couldn’t put much dedication on them, so in the end I didn’t like how the trash can looked, even though everyone, including teacher told me that my trash can looked so clean and nice. I did feel a bit of happiness among all of this when I showed my teacher the trash can before all the changes. A senior joined in, and everyone was very surprised. My teacher laughed out of surprise and awe and congratulated me for the cleanliness of the trash can. After the senior said the same, my teacher said: “yeah, she makes the cleanest models.” I felt very proud and happy, even though it quickly wore off. At the end, my trash can earned full marks, along with my final writing project which I handed in late. But that was not enough to make me feel better. The semester ended and I could finally rest for a while, but not much because my mom and I were going to travel to Mexico, stay for New Year’s, and later a big birthday party for my grandma. I felt extremely drained, and depressed, and didn’t want to go and submit myself to that sensory nightmare.

Extraordinary

Extraordinary

My mom has been into pronunciation Shorts lately. I was studying Korean and she suddenly said, ”I have a challenge for you.” The challenge was to guess the country of the flag on the screen and pronounce it properly. I got them all. Panama. Qatar. Hungary. Cameroon. Then she found another one but for guessing the capital with the flag. Ottawa. Nairobi. Stockholm. When the creator said Stockholm exactly like I did my mom just said, “Oh my god, you’re—you’re amazing.” Even though I’ve told her about my autistic traits, she still maintains that there’s no way I’m autistic. My guess is that it is hard for a neurotypical person to understand the traits that are considered autistic, and that changing the weaknesses is not as easy as “learning to be social,” or just “stop moving my hands, head, and whole body.” I’ve been listening to the melody ”Overture” from the show Extraordinary Attorney Woo. With it as background, the show begins by showing many yellow rubber ducks and a blue duck between them. I’ve always felt like that blue duck. The feeling was shared between not feeling comfortable in my gender and not fitting in socially. It was always clear to me that I was not a normal child, and everyone said that to me. I didn’t play how everyone did; I didn’t at all. I was not interested in things they liked. I have always loved learning. Always wanting to learn how to do things. The other day we were walking the dog and my mom said that she doesn’t think I’m autistic because I have had friends. And I thought about it and here’s my reasoning: Yes, I’ve had some friends in the past because others have noticed me struggling to talk, and have been kind enough to approach me and eventually embrace me. Without them, past years would have been like this senior year, lonely. Because I wouldn’t speak to anyone if I didn’t need to. But I was able to see that they were nice people that wanted to help. This last year, there was no way for anyone to know that I was new to the school. I was never introduced to anyone. I didn’t introduce myself to anyone. No one introduced themselves to me. No one even knew I was a senior in any of my classes; I only share one class out of twelve with seniors. I didn’t need to talk to anyone, so I just didn’t. I made my way around the school, mapped out where my classrooms were, and scored the highest grades ever; not that they were ever bad. During recesses, I learned things on my phone. Read through articles, news, played GeoGuessr, answered flag trivia, learned languages, so many things. That is my superpower, the eagerness to learn. That enables me to know and do a wide variety of things. From learning about nuclear energy and disasters, to the North Korean regime, flags, capitals, places on the map, Japanese, Korean, anti-trans legislation, how to fix electronics, how to read a music sheet, play piano, sewing, Java, HTML, Adobe, Product Design. It is all truly beautiful to me. Being able to do lots of things is very rewarding. It makes me very happy and proud when I learn something and I actually help others with it. Like, I’ve brought the electricity back up from a burnt fuse, jump-started a car, fixed clothes, fixed dead computers, put furniture together when no one else in the room would know how to do it or would give up. However, it comes with a detriment, I can do so many things somewhat averagely, but not a single one extremely well. In other words, I see how people succeed in something specific when in my case, I don’t have anything to show for my abilities. It’s weird, but I wouldn’t give it up. And I’ve taken the first step to change it. I’ve chosen my career, Product Design. It embodies many of the abilities I mentioned above. It will allow me to make a positive change in people’s lives. And hopefully land my dream job, work at Apple. So, yes. Being autistic is extraordinary. Knowing so many things has helped me, and I’m sure it will help me a lot. It, however, comes with difficulties that I must at least ameliorate. Even though it’s hard for me to talk to people, I need to do it. The first part of the song from the show reminds me of how sad it can be to be different and not fit in. The middle part reminds me of the discovery of your strengths. The ending is to me the amazing it all really is. Our world is different, full of amazement and discovery, and hopefully one day, someone will want to take a peek and be part of it with me.

High School

High School

Okay, well, now it’s been a very long time. I really haven’t felt any inspiration to write here, but it’s coming back. So, I started my senior year of high school in the US. The building was overwhelming at first, I couldn’t find my classrooms. I decided to walk around the school, I even used a compass, to orient myself. I made a nice map of where I had to take each class. The first day passed, then the first week, and I had no friends yet. I was placed in classes mostly filled with freshmen and juniors, I only share a single class with seniors. At first, I thought this was the reason I couldn’t make any friends—foreshadowing. One interesting thing I discovered is that I was not as dumb as I thought I would look like compared to people here. Many literally don’t even try to pay attention and get things done. In terms of what the school looks like, I started to make the next comparison:Mexican public high school - 1 Mexican private high school - 2 US public high school - 2 US private high school - 3It's pretty nice and large, with projectors and Chromebooks, a big gym and field, it's pretty cool. Anyways, thinking about the pandemic, and how I ruined my grades by not turning things in remotely, I vowed to fix that this year. I promised myself that I would not miss a single assignment ever. After seeing how good my grades turned out with this promise—I got into the High Honors in the first semester—I decided I would achieve the same in the second. Everyone stares at me, it might be in my head, but I sometimes look up to see their face, and they keep staring. With an expression that I can’t decipher, it’s like neutral, but mean. I joined the GSA club. On our first meeting, we introduced ourselves, I stuttered a bit. I learned that the vice president was a senior called Graham. They came in late, but when they introduced themself, I learned they are bi. I immediately felt something, like I felt we could be together. I didn’t share any classes with Graham, I only saw them on the bus, and sometimes during recess. I wanted to tell them that I liked them, but I could never do it. Plus I wanted to actually know them. So I just smiled at them. Graham would not smile back, but after a while, they started seeking me out with their sight and then I would smile. I eventually gave up. I stopped going to GSA to avoid seeing them, and I have been avoiding eye contact. At first I sat outside in the stands. It was great, I couldn’t take in how massive the field was. But when the weather turned cold I started sitting inside. I sat at the first available seat I saw coming up the stairs. A guy sat on the next bench. I later found out that his name is Evan. I didn’t talk to him, and he didn’t talk to me. Months went by and it was the same situation. One day one of Evan’a friends pointed out that we always sit there but we had never talked to each other. He then said, “she seems nice,” and “she has nice hair.” To what Evan responded, “shut up, shut up, shut uuup.” It was very funny to me. And it was especially nice to know that someone actually liked my hair. I struggle with my hair a lot, I am always trying to get it out of my face. And so, from touching it so much, it actually starts looking bad. But not really, it’s all in my head. I always come home and look in the mirror, and my hair looks fine! I don’t know why I can’t understand that. When it’s time to create a presentation or any visual, I put a lot of effort into it. This year I have made some of the best presentations ever. Truth is that it mostly goes unnoticed. My grades are very high, everything I do is very creative, and most importantly, I do everything I’m asked, and more! And still, people who don’t hand in things, who misbehave, or play sports seem to be more popular with the teachers. Right now, graduation is a month away, and actual classes end in a week. I didn’t make a single friend. I probably went entire days without speaking a single word to anyone. But I will graduate with straight A’s in all my subjects! My algebra grade is 104%!! And my overall percentage seems to be around 98, I had never achieved such a performance. I was never a bad student, but I could never score better than 91. My mum would always push me to do better, but I couldn’t. And now, completely unaware of my promise I wrote above, she always tells me that is the school that is flawed, and not me who is doing the effort. That really hurts, but I try to ignore it. I take great pride in what I have achieved, even if it’s only worth something to me. I’m just expecting college to be different. (In the social side of things.)